Conversations with Dead People
by Spikerox
Summary: What if Ralph had run for the mountain at the end of the book instead of the beach? Alternative ending to the book


Conversations With Dead People  
  
Ralph staggered to his feet and peered into the sky as if it held some kind of answer, help and safety. But it didn't. The problem, them, was growing closer and closer with each passing second.  
  
The way he saw it, he had two choices; to carry on making his way towards the reef and hold onto the hope of a passing ship or make his way up the mountain, risking facing the Beast, yet hiding where the savages would not dare look.  
  
The shrill cry of a savage burst out of the close by foliage; Ralph knew it was time to run. Using a forgotten bolt of energy he ran, scrambled and climbed, never pausing until he was standing in the lingering ashes of the long forgotten fire.  
  
Ralph collapsed from both physical and mental exhaustion. He let the emotion take over him and the tears fall. With each new tear came old memories. Memories that flooded his brain as the droplets of salty water flooded the ash. He cried until there were no more tears left and tiredness overtook him.  
  
It was dark when Ralph awoke, cold and alone. He sat up sharply, pulling on some very sore muscles. The night was crisp and clear; the closer stars could be seen lighting up the now silent jungle.  
  
"The fire's out," a little voice from behind him announced.  
  
Ralph snapped his head round to see who was talking. A few metres away sat a littlun, he was still wearing the scraps of a faded grey school uniform. A large mulberry coloured mark spanned a great deal of the boys face.  
  
"You're that littlun!" Ralph exclaimed in pure confusion. "The one that died in the fire!"  
  
The young boy nodded and shuffled nearer to his leader.  
  
"It doesn't hurt that much, dying, all tingly and -"  
  
"But how come you're here? You can't..."  
  
In less time than it takes to blink, the littlun dissolved like sand in the wind. Ralph scuttled backwards in fear. He could see the eerie shadow of a figure forming behind. Slowly and cautiously he turned round to see who or what was there.  
  
"W-who are you?" Ralph managed to stutter.  
  
"You should know." The man stared straight into the depths of Ralph's eyes. He was dressed in the uniform of a soldier and didn't look a day over twenty. "It was me that did this to you." He pointed at Ralph's swollen torso.  
  
"You?"  
  
"Wasn't it the Beast that drove them to madness?"  
  
Ralph felt a growing fear from the pit of his stomach.  
  
"But the Beast... it wasn't... it went..."  
  
"The Beast will never leave you," he laughed. "But I suppose it was my body that you symbolised as the Beast."  
  
The man, no longer in his form but one that Ralph knew much better, crouched down next to Ralph.  
  
"That's what I tried to tell you."  
  
"Simon," Ralph whispered shakily. "I'm so sorry. We didn't mean-" He started shaking violently in memory.  
  
"It's ok," Simon shrugged, placing one hand on Ralph's shoulder. "It was meant to happen, I guess."  
  
To Ralph, Simon didn't seem very sure but that was him way, always comforting and agreeable.  
  
"It wasn't you anyways," a new voice said. "I seen things different to the others."  
  
"Of course you did Piggy, you only had one eye-" Ralph was surprised how this latest change didn't shock him.  
  
"I mean, I seen things, where it all went wrong. We needed those things that the others thought were boring, like rules and stuff. No one could have fixed things."  
  
Nothing else was said for hours, or at least what felt like hours. Ralph just sat with his stare fixated on Castle Rock, thinking of what his wise friend told him. Could things have been different? Could all of this have been prevented? Could civilisation pull through? The pessimistic answer of 'no' hung in Ralph's mind.  
  
"They're not there," a new voice said from beside him.  
  
"Who?" Ralph asked, turning to face the unsuspected guest.  
  
"All of them," the twin answered.  
  
"Samneric? You're not... are you?" Ralph's complicated world was spinning out of control.  
  
"I'm Sam, Eric went on the boat."  
  
The last flickers of colour drained from Ralph's face. "There was a boat!"  
  
Sam nodded. "I wasn't allowed on," he called out. But Ralph failed to hear him.  
  
He just ran; never once stopping to pause and think about the goings on up on the mountain or where he was getting the energy from.  
  
The sun was just starting the peak up from the horizon when his feet first felt the warm sand beneath them. He squinted his tired eyes, trying to make out the tiny blob in the distance. Ghost Sam was right, there was a boat and it was nearly completely out of view.  
  
"Come back!" Ralph cried uselessly. "Come back!"  
  
He called until the sun hung high in the sky and his voice was barely more than a hoarse whisper.  
  
"Come back!" Tears leaked from his eyes, tracing the familiar route down his face. He collapsed on the sand, hugging himself.  
  
"Come back!" His lungs felt their last breath, his heart gave in and all the pain washed away.  
  
The littlun was right, death didn't hurt, well not as much as living did.  
  
The End. 


End file.
